GONE
by emmacortana
Summary: Leo has started the hardest part of his life. His mother is dead. He's out on the streets. He's alone. One day it won't hurt anymore; one day he'll be numb. But until that day, he will have his heart break and his soul shatter. And he will be completely and utterly crushed, before he has a chance to heal. One shot.


**A/N ok so I recently got a Wattpad (same username) and I'm copy and pasting all my fanfictions and publishing it there. But I made some edits and changes to Braver Than You Think, so I'm just posting it again but differently. It may or may not be because I need another image spot in my image manager. Don't judge. If you want to see the original, go on my profile. I wouldn't recommend it though-I like this one a lot better. Ok bye. ~EMMA**

Leo shivered in the cold.

He was in the back of an alleyway, huddled up against the dumpster. His thin clothing provided no barrier between him and the wind wand snow of the December weather. It was Christmas Eve, or perhaps Christmas. Leo had no idea if it was past midnight yet, and he didn't care to find out.

He gazed longingly at a broken chair tossed out for the garbage men to pick up later. It was made entirely out of wood, painted gold. And he was so cold, too cold. Perhaps he could-

 _No_. He banished the thought as quickly as it came. _He could not- would not- use his fire. Never again._

Leo pulled his knees closer to his chest to warm himself, wincing as they hit his bony ribs. He couldn't remember the last time he ate. Two days ago? Maybe three? No matter; soon there would be piles of leftovers, deemed not worthy enough to be eaten again. But he was thirsty. He took out his water bottle and took a swig. Only a drop landed in his parched mouth.

He packed as much snow as possible into the water bottle and then snuggled it up against his body for heat. He knew it was freezing, but he couldn't even feel it against his skin, pale in the weather. He hoped it would melt quickly, as his lips hurt when he smiled or talked, and his tongue provided no additional moisture. During the winter, the city turned off the water fountains for fear of the water freezing, leaving Leo to his own resources.

Leo rested his head against the wall, closing his eyes and searching for sleep, only to find it driven away by the cold once more. He tried again, but turned up empty handed.

After a while, he gave up, and sat up. He was cold, _so cold._ He just wanted to feel warm again. But there was something that always worked-how he kept from freezing inside out, starting with his heart and head.

He pulled a ziploc bag out from his pocket, carefully folded over a thin rectangular object. He unwrapped the layers, and took it out. It was no bigger than his palm and was a delicate, fragile thing. A picture, of a life no longer there. A picture of Then-Leo and his mother. Esperanza Valdez hugged her son and smiled at him as if he was the most important thing in the world. Her hands were shiny with machine grease, his no better. How could this have only been four months ago, when he had been so happy? How could a life be lost between one day and the next, as if it was no more important then a piece of wood, burning down so quickly, here one moment, and then, gone.

Gone.

Now-Leo's vision blurred with tears, coming against his will. He hugged it against his chest so it would not get wet or damaged. He felt such a big surge of emotion, and couldn't help but sob. He lied back down, and muffled the sounds with the cold ground, covered in a blanket of snow. His Mother's death was not too recent, but the grief stayed as if she'd died only minutes ago.

He resented the world-absolutely despised it! How could the world go on, when Leo's mother had died? How did it not even notice? Why did nobody care that a loving mother was taken away and left behind her young son, completely abandoned by everyone else? Why did they get to move on, when he and his mother couldn't?

He remembered his mom soothing the cuts the wires made on his small hands, kissing the pain away. Taking him out for ice cream, even though she knew they couldn't afford it.

He remembered her brushing his curls back, telling him in her sweet, calm voice "Nothing is unfixable, mijo."

He remembered her warmth, her smile, her love.

Unconsciously, Leo softly tapped on the ground, making no sound with his numb fingers. ._.. _ _ _ ..._ . , Love. His fingers found his mothers face, brushing lightly against it. He tapped on her arm "I love you," in a language he had once thought that only they had known. Then he held the only relic of his mother as close to his heart as possible, pressing against his skin with all his strength, and for a moment he felt warmth.

The air heated up around him, making him feel deliciously warm. He could almost picture a blazing fireplace in front of him, and an arm around his small body. His mother's hand, scarred from many years working in a machine work shop, reaching out for his face.

And then it was gone. All except for a little fire against his chest. He liked it. It felt nice.

He kept it for a little while longer, until he realized it was an actual fire.

"No, no, no!" He yelled with wide eyes, as he quickly threw the flaming picture out of his hands and into the snow. He plunged his hands into it too, willing the fire to die. The snow only melted, until he calmed himself enough to control it. He then tossed snow on top of the picture, hoping to salvage it.

He was too late.

The only thing left was the charred corner of the living room. The rest was ashes.

Tears fell down his face uncontrollably, and he couldn't stop the wail of pure misery that followed shortly after. He was too weak. He was horrified to realize that without the picture, he couldn't remember whether her eyes had been more burnt wood or ashes. He cursed himself a thousand times, screaming at the wall and hurling the broken chair at it until it splintered into pieces much like his heart. He couldn't control or stop his own body, and now it was as if his mom was truly gone.

Now, he was truly alone.


End file.
